


Classy Girls

by Fratboybry



Series: Shipping Songfics [3]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, NOT SAD, Songfic, dont @ me, this is a shitpost that I really wanted to write, ‘Classy Girls’ by The Lumineers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15800493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fratboybry/pseuds/Fratboybry
Summary: ‘Meeting in a bar in the desert’ AU. Based off of one of my favorite songs.





	Classy Girls

Lyrics and inspiration from the song “Classy Girls” by The Lumineers

  
_Well, She was standing in the bar_  
_I said, “hello, how do you do?”_  
_She handed me a beer with a kangaroo_

Waverly Earp had sparkling lights in her eyes, and Nicole Haught was 96% sure that wasn’t the alcohol talking. She’d only been in the bar for 35 minutes, but she already knew she wasn’t going home anytime soon like she’d originally planned, too transfixed on the woman in front of her. She had a gentle and genuine laugh that carried through the air and seemed to brighten the atmosphere, eyes that sparkled with desire and mischief that had Nicole leaning forward on her barstool to get a better look, and she had an air about her that Nicole could only associate with the word ‘home’ and made every hair on the back of her neck stand up at the same time. In all, sitting on a barstool in a desert in Nevada, talking to the most perfect stranger, Nicole Haught knew she was royally fucked, and couldn’t bring herself to care.

_She spoke of places I had never been_  
_That she had travelled to_  
_And we slow danced along to faster tunes_

Nicole Haught listened to her, let her talk and processed each word, and Waverly Earp couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that for her. Nicole smiled and raised her eyebrows over the mouth of her beer when Waverly rambled, instead of talking over her or signaling to her to stop. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that either. And when Nicole talked, she enunciated her words, chose them carefully, and Waverly loved the way they rolled out of her mouth. The woman in a blue plaid flannel and white undershirt told her of rock climbing and road tripping adventures all over the western United States, and quieter, more thoughtful stories of the east coast big cities she called home. After four beers, almost an hour of talking, and having been coerced off her stool and onto the hardwood of the dancefloor, Waverly was convinced that taking a summer job in the middle of nowhere wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

_And I made her laugh, I made a pass_  
_I showed her my half-dollar ring_  
_She said, “That’s pretty cool._  
_But classy girls don’t kiss in bars, you fool.”_

Nicole had a silver ring on her right thumb, and Waverly couldn’t help how many times her fingers traced over its face. She had a sunglasses tan you couldn’t really see until you got really close, and strong forearms that held her hips in a grip loose enough that she could pull away if she wanted, but tight enough that made it clear she didn’t want her to. And that was alright by her.

_So later on the crowd calmed down_  
_And I believe it was as if something drew me closer to her lips_

She had been bartending the past three weeks and two hours when the lanky stranger walked in. Waverly felt the need to go somewhere other than Purgatory and her college campus, and on one very impulse decision, bought airfare to the middle of nowhere and took up the first job she could find. Risks and hasty decisions made her anxious, but staying in the same place made her feel claustrophobic. At least there was no chance of that here, what with her current place of employment having only one wall that led to the inventory, and the rest ann open air bar where you could literally walk off into the desert if you chose to. But the strings of fairy lights meticulously strewn overhead, illuminating the dancefloor under the canvas tent top, gave a sense of homeliness to the slice of nowhere, and the patrons, familiar and changing every night, provided enough distraction and entertainment for her to consider all the mistakes she’d made doing this. Seldom was a band not close by, so live folk and indie music played a soundtrack to an adventure that continued on in her sleep at night. Coming here was perhaps the best thing she’d ever done, and the thing that would ultimately ruin her. She didn’t know if it was for better or for worse when Nicole Haught walked into her bar, but she knew that if anything was going to ruin her, it’d be the tall redhead in a flannel and hiking boots.

_So, picture my surprise when I had tried to lean in for a kiss_  
_And she just smiled and turned her head down_

Nicole leaned down once, so caught up in the moment and the tranquil melody of the live guitar that she forgot herself, until Waverly pulled away to bury her nose in her neck instead. It wasn’t that Waverly didn’t want Nicole. She wanted Nicole so bad, she wanted the moment to be absolutely perfect.

_I asked her, “Why?” and she replied_  
_“It was nothing I was just doing wrong, it’s just what it is,”_  
_Classy girls don’t kiss in bars like this_

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Waverly. Have I completely misread everything?” She swallowed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to play off this rejection.  
“No, you idiot.” Waverly cooed, bringing one hand to Nicole’s firm jaw to guide her honey brown eyes away from searching for the quickest exit back to her own. “I’m sorry to have led you on, but,” gathering her courage, Waverly pressed herself forward until they were practically falling into each other’s arms as they danced, and softly whispered to the shell of your ear, “when I finally have you, I don’t want these people around us ruining it.”  
Nicole let out a shaky, scared breath, and tried to play it off as a chuckle. “You’re very direct, aren’t you, Ms. Earp?”  
“Only when it’s to get something I want, baby.”

_Classy girls don’t kiss in bars_  
_Boys will break their backs and hearts_  
_But it’s alright the hardest part is through_

It continued on like that for a few hours more, Waverly making it look like Nicole was the one weaving them slowly around the dance floor, and in return, Nicole would break away from the smaller woman every so often, to spin her and pull her right back into her arms again. And when the band onstage, a local one that played for Waverly’s bar half a dozen times before but never made her feel like this, finally took their last encore and half stumbled off the stage to celebrate with drinks, Waverly realized that meant she’d have to release her hold on Nicole’s left shoulder and right wrist, and they’d eventually have to part. So instead of letting go, Waverly gripped her tighter, and tugged her through the loose throng of remaining people, into the parking lot and around the side of her red jeep. Pushing the rock climber against the cool metal of the door, their eyes met briefly, one confused and the other searching for hesitation, before Waverly closed her eyes and raised her head, finally connecting their lips. Nicole staggered back against the door for a moment, then eagerly reciprocated as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded. And when Waverly felt herself get flipped so now she was the one pinned, with eager hands grasping at her hips, and a mouth make its way to her cheek, then to her jaw, then down the slope of her neck, she grabbed a fistfull of short red hair and thought of just why she didn’t let this happen sooner. This job, this place, this stranger, was all going to be the death of her, and she couldn’t be more excited.

_The hardest part is through._

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel? Maybe?? Just give me input I dunno? 
> 
>  
> 
> STALK ME  
> Instagram: Fratboybry  
> Tumblr: lexasfavoritecandle [personal] | Fratboybry [writing only]


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